The Simplicity in Complication
by Sapphire Smoke
Summary: Everything is always so backwards with Parker. •Parker/Eliot•


**Title:** The Simplicity in Complication  
**Author:** Devereauxx  
**Fandom:** Leverage  
**Rating:** M  
**Pairing(s):** Parker/Eliot  
**For:** Leverage Secret Santa over on LJ for niennaseregon  
**Summary:** Everything is always so backwards with Parker.  
**A/N:** So, yeah. This is my first time writing Parker/Eliot in an... extensive manner, I should say. So I don't know if it's any good, I always get weary of doing things for the first time. Hopefully it is, anyway LOL.

It wasn't supposed to be this hard.

What started out as some kind of freak fuckin' accident, a one-off fuck and hope to hell you forget about it the next morning, turned into three months worth of secrets, lies, and headaches. It ain't like Eliot meant for it to keep happening – he didn't. He's half convinced Parker isn't entirely human; half succubus and half plain stark _nuts_, or whatever. He's pretty sure she likes it – the sneaking around, trying to get away with shit in places they really _shouldn't _be doing shit… like Nate's_ bedroom_. She's got to get a rush from it or something; the woman's an adrenaline junkie and he's pretty damn sure she's just toying with him so she get her high. He's also pretty sure it's not even about the orgasms anymore, if it ever was in the first place.

Which under any other circumstances, really wouldn't be much of an issue. Eliot's all for sex with no strings attached; it usually doesn't lay claim on migraines. This though? All this is is one constant fuckin' migraine. But outside of the mind fuck and a half that is the fact that he's boning _Parker _of all people, there's the fact that they work together, that Hardison's been trying to nail her – no, sorry, buy her flowers and candy and _then_ nail her – for over a year now, and that he just… fuck, it's starting to _bother _him; the fact that she's using him to get her fix.

Not that he wants to dwell on that, he's pretty sure it won't lead to anywhere good.

It just feels wrong to him, doing this. Taking her, having her take him, then just go about the day like nothing had ever happened. Or hell, doing this shit and have it almost fuck up a damn job… which sure, yeah, having Parker dress as a, hell, whatever she was supposed to be… she freakin' looked like some kind of naughty school teacher topped off with the damn glasses and everything. Whatever. That it did something for him was pretty obvious by the size of his boner. He blame's Sophie, really. There was no need to dress her up like _that._ Sure, she needed to be sexy for the mark, but Parker was already hot enough without all the extra help.

She was supposed to be waiting for the mark to come down into the lobby of the hotel. Hardison was staked out in the van, and Nate was outside with Sophie feeding Parker encouraging words to let her know she could do this. It's ridiculous, really it is. While it's true, Parker can't flirt to save her own fuckin' _life_, she still knows how to get what she wants sexually. Though then again, doing this in her own little Parker way really isn't how normal people go about seducing people, so no, it wouldn't work for the job.

And also, the job can't freaking work if she's not even _there_ to do it in the first place.

Eliot was supposed to be watching her back, that was it. Just hidden in the fuckin' shadows and make sure nothing goes south. So how he ended up in the mens bathroom with Parker backing him up against the stall wall with her hands already working his zipper… he'll never know. He swore he was out there doing his job a second ago.

"Parker—"

He tried to tell her now isn't the time, he really did. But a hand is covering his mouth then, and she silently motions to the coms. Right, no making a sound. Well they wouldn't have to cover up anything if they just _didn't do it._ The mark was gonna come down any second.

But it's pointless, and they both know it. It's gonna happen. Parker's already seen the bulge in his pants, knows it's because of her, and within moments his dick is out, the door to the stall she shoved him in is locked, and she's on her knees in front of him.

Fuck.

"What was that, Eliot?" Nate asks over the coms.

"Nothing, nevermind," Eliot says in a rush, just before Parker's lips wrap around him. He closes his eyes in defeat and bangs his head back on the wall slightly, just needing to get out his frustration with himself that he can never make this stop.

"Okay, Parker, make sure you don't over twirl or flick your hair, last time it made you look like you had some kind of problem… or maybe a bad case of lice," Eliot hears Sophie say in his ear.

Parker takes her mouth off of him for only a second to say, "Okay," and then she's back to sucking him off like she couldn't give a shit less that they actually had a job to do. It's all mindless conversation; the buzzing in his ear. Nate and Sophie still trying to prepare Parker, her mumbled acknowledgements and short one word answers. He's breathing heavy, he can hear himself, but he can't stop it. Her tongue is just as skilled at stealing shit – like his sanity – just as the rest of her was.

"Eliot, are you okay?"

Nate. Fuck. He's about to cum too.

Eliot's pretty sure that Nate knows. He's been giving him scrutinizing, judging glances in his direction ever since that little encounter. He ended up cumming right when he was trying to say "Fine" and ended up attempting to cover it up badly with a coughing fit. And then of course Sophie starts freaking out, demanding to know where Parker was because the mark was downstairs, and of course she was nowhere to be found. Parker's excuse about a bathroom break really didn't cut it and he's pretty sure Sophie knows now too.

He hopes to fuck Hardison doesn't, though.

It's all just bullshit, all of this. It means nothing, it _is_ nothing, and yet like some compulsive gambler he can't seem to stop. He keeps stickin' shit in the slot machine, hoping to come out on top but always left with the feeling that he's just been robbed. And yes, that was more of an innuendo than a metaphor.

But he knows he can't make it stop because he doesn't want it to. Of course he does in the long run, seeing the bigger picture, whatever. But no matter how much easier his life would get if he would just stop poppin' Parker like some fuckin' horny teenage kid on his first roll, the fact is that if he stops doing it, he _doesn't get to do it anymore._

It makes more sense than how it sounds.

Parker's beautiful; anyone with eyes can see that. There's something really fuckin' wrong with her mental-wise, but she's… shit, a bit endearing, in her own little way. She's got this charm that knocks you on your ass once you get past all the weird of whatever it was that she just said, did, or mimicked. Whatever she does. She's this fuckin' whirlwind of crazy adrenaline and spontaneity and _god_ does that show in the bedroom.

It's fun. Plain and simple. More than fun. That is when they're not doing it where they can get their asses _caught._

But she likes that, he knows it. The rush. It turns her on and it drives him crazy, but hell that might be why it's fucking sexy even though it's just so… god, it's so damn _stupid_ to be doing this with her.

But as if things couldn't get any worse (or better, depending on your point of view), of course something has to happen that makes him realize he needs to just get the _hell_ out of dodge.

It wasn't like a bomb or anything; nothing like that. It was really_ nothing_ compared to hell, everything else. But after a four hour fuck in his house that led from the kitchen to the bathroom to finally the bedroom, she passed out on his bed. But that wasn't the problem. Sure, he really doesn't like spending the night with someone who ain't his lover, in the romantic sense, anyway, but it wasn't that first time that she's exhausted herself.

No, that wasn't it.

The problem was that she was fast asleep on his bed, breathing lightly, contently, with this little smile on her face. The problem was that it made_ him _smile. The problem was that he ran his fingers though her hair lightly and for one, stupid, fucked up moment thought that she was…

Perfect.

It didn't have to be a bomb, that hit him in the face like a shit ton of bricks and made him want to fucking get up and start running and never stop. He takes away his hand from her like he's been burned and just stares at her. How in the hell did she… what did she _do??_

And then it hits him, all of it. All at once with no remorse, no pause to let him catch his breath and even _think._

He didn't stop it because the sex would just stop. He didn't stop it because stopping it would mean that he couldn't be close to her anymore. It wasn't just Parker's body, it wasn't just her sexual presence… it was just that it was _her._ Somehow, though it makes no goddamn sense at all… he had somehow managed to have feelings for her. Real, live, in-your-fuckin'-face-so-THERE feelings for this… this…

Crazy ass thief. Beautiful, amazing, shit fuckin' nuts, drives-you-insane-but-still-makes-you-smile… thief. Woman. Shit.

He just left her there in his house. He had to get out, had to just go… somewhere. Away. Just away long enough to make the craziness stop. He couldn't do this anymore after that. It's different when they're just using each other; tit for tat or tit for dick or whatever the _hell._ But he ain't gonna do this. He can't have any kinds of feelings for her that can't be explained by a hard dick. It's just too fucked up.

He was gone for four days before they caught up to him. He was in Maryland, in some dirty ass motel room under a fake name. He didn't use any of the aliases Hardison had made for him – no, that would have been stupid. He also didn't set himself up anywhere nice because that would be been obvious. Well, okay, he wasn't exactly for nice like say, Sophie was, but he does like things smelling a certain way.

And this couch? It's not meeting the scent expectations.

They shouldn't have found him this fast, if he knew they would he would have just stayed somewhere that didn't have roaches as his roommates. But yet there they all were, parked outside in the van. Well, all except Nate, who had come barging into his hotel room without so much as a knock.

"What the hell is this?" he demands.

Eliot doesn't look at him, doesn't get up. There's really no point. "Got lost," he deadpans. Nate snorts in annoyance.

"So this is how it's going to end?" Nate asks him in that annoying little way that he does that implies that you're being stupid. "You run off without a word, just like you've always done? This is just it then?"

Eliot sets his jaw. "We're thieves."

"You all keep saying that to me like it's some sort of excuse that actually has a valid reason behind it," Nate replies. "Yeah, if this was two years ago, I would have expected it. Now? Well now I think you're just running away from your problems like a spoiled teenage kid."

"Fuck off."

"What the hell happened?"

Eliot takes a breath, his eyes flickering over to him. Shit. "Nothing. Just… done with it. Gotta take a break for awhile."

"And you didn't think any of us had the right to know that you were leaving?"

"Ain't none of ya'll business."

"Bullshit. Eliot, in case you forgot, let me remind you of something. When Sophie did…" he trails off for a moment, not wanting to remember. He just skips over it instead, "You were the one who was the most pissed off about it. Do you need me to remind you why?"

Eliot doesn't answer. He knows why. Instead he gets up and crosses over to the mini fridge, pulling it open and grabbing a beer out of it. The can clicks as he opens it.

"You liked being part of a team," Nate answers for him, then comes over to grab himself a beer. Eliot scowls as he sits back down on the foul couch.

"Sure, grab a beer Nate, stay awhile," he says, words dripping with his sarcasm. Nate ignores him.

As he opens his beer he just stares at him in that way that makes Eliot feel like Daddy just caught him doing something wrong. He fucking hates when Nate gets like this. "You almost made Parker cry," he tells him in a low voice, like he isn't sure if he should even say anything.

"Parker doesn't cry."

"Tell that to Hardison," Nate responds, and Eliot wrinkles his brow in confusion. Has Parker cried in front of him before? "Look, we were all freaked out when we couldn't find you. There's more than one bounty on your head."

"I know that."

"Then you should have shown some fucking consideration for the rest of us. How we would feel, how we would react."

"Well you fuckin' know now, okay?" Eliot says, frustrated and annoyed. It wasn't like this conversation was gonna make him come back, so it really was rather pointless. "I ain't dead, in jail, or whatever else. I'm good. So just… you know."

There's silence for a while as Nate just looks at him like he's being the biggest fuck up in the history of ever. He hates that look too. Finally he turns towards the door and just says, "Fine."

And just like that… he was gone.

But then he hears arguing outside, and five minutes later the door is opened again. Parker comes in slowly, looking at him cautiously. He doesn't say anything, he just looks at her. It's all he can do. When she shuts the door behind him she's shifting on her feet a bit uncomfortably.

More silence. Too much silence. She's just _standing_ there.

"What?" he asks, annoyed.

She makes a face at his tone, and finally looks up at him. "What did I do?"

"You didn't do anything," he tells her. Damn, come on, can't he catch a break, here? Why did she have to come in and be all… guilt tripping? He doesn't want her to feel like it's her fault. He doesn't want to hurt her. But he sure as hell ain't gonna tell her the truth either.

"You had sex with me and when I woke up you had run away." She pauses, pursing her lips together and then digs something out of her pocket. She holds her hand out, "You forgot all your hair ties too. Thought someone kidnapped you and wasn't nice enough to let you tie your hair back first."

Eliot blinks. She brought his hair ties? Seriously?

He reaches out and takes them from her slowly, then just mumbles, "Thanks." More silence, then he tells her, "It had nothing to do with the sex." Because it didn't. Just all the stupid feelings.

"So I wasn't bad?"

"What? Parker, seriously. If you were bad I wouldn't have fucked you for three goddamn months."

"Oh. Well, I don't know," she says, then sits next to him on the couch. She makes a face. "It smells funny in here."

This was stupid. Why was she here? She's not gonna make him go back, and the mindless conversation about the smell is just… mindless. "It's the couch."

"Ew." But she doesn't move to get up; she's still sitting next to him. Way too close for his comfort zone. He moves away from her a little. "What's wrong then?" she asks.

"Nothing. Why do you even care?" he asks, and yeah, it came out a lot bitchier than he meant it too. But Parker doesn't seem to notice, or lets it roll right off of her.

"Because I've realized I don't like it very much when you're gone," she tells him. Eliot's not quite sure what to make of it. He's not even sure if Parker's capable of having hidden meanings. "Five is a better number than four."

"Yeah, well. You gotta get used to it."

"Why are you being mean?" she asks, and the way she says it makes him feel like one great big asshole in a matter of three seconds.

"Just… tired. Grumpy." He doesn't even say sorry, he really is kind of a jerk.

"You're always grumpy, but you're never usually mean." There's a pause, and Eliot feels her shift on the couch so that her thigh is touching his. He's pretty sure she means absolutely nothing by it, but that one small touch is sending fire through his veins and making him very hyper-aware of that particular body part. "You need to come back," she tells him.

"Why?"

She smiles a little, like it should be obvious. "Because I'm the only other person who can beat people up, and I can't be the hitter _and _the thief."

Eliot blames her smile for now being back in his own house. He blames her one simple sentence that really in no way should have made him come back. He blames her thigh. He blames, hell, everything. But blaming doesn't change the fact that he came back.

Fuck, has he become pussy-whipped? This is unacceptable.

What's even more unacceptable is that they had sex the night he came back. And, what's even more unacceptable than _that,_ is that subconsciously he apparently was trying to _make love_ to her… and Parker seemed to catch on.

He was on top of her, his lips kissing her neck softly, up to her ear. It was slow, passionate, and he was touching every part of like she was fuckin' made out of glass or something. His lips find hers and he kisses her gently, feeling her little sighs of pleasure tickling his sensitive skin… but then she says:

"Stop."

"What?" he asks her breathlessly, stilling his movements and looking down at her. She's looking at him like he's some sort of seven hundred and fifty piece puzzle that she needs to figure out.

"What are you doing?"

"What the hell are you talking about?" he asks, still not catching on to what the hell he _was_ doing. He was fucking her, isn't that what she wanted? What she always just fuckin' wants?

"You're having sex with me weird."

"_What?"_ Of all the idiotic shit— fuck this. He withdraws from her, and she makes a sound of annoyance at him being gone. But he doesn't care; she's the one being weird. He moves to sit next to her on the bed.

"Hey, what'd you do that for?"

"You said I was fucking you weird, so I ain't gonna fuck you then," he says, annoyed. Offended. What the hell was he doing? He sure as fuck didn't think he was doing anything that constituted as _weird._

"I don't want you to stop, just have sex with me like normal. Having sex like this makes me feel funny," she tells him, making a face, like she can't even figure herself out, let alone him.

"What the hell is our _normal _sex? What the fuck are you on? You're acting like a goddamn spaz."

"No I'm not. You usually have sex with me like with growling and hair pulling and biting and stuff. Now you're having sex with me like I'm a doll."

"Are you implying I've had sex with a _blow up doll?"_ Eliot growls. What the fuck? She's got to be on something. There was nothing different in the way they were—

Fuck. Yes there was. Oh shit.

"No, I don't know. Have you? Can I see it?"

"No! Parker, I don't have a fucking _doll!"_ Eliot exclaims, his frustration with himself being taken out on her. Fuck, what was he _doing?_ He was trying to… trying to…

God, they seriously can't have sex anymore.

"Jeez, you don't have to yell."

"This isn't working," Eliot says finally, choosing not to look at her as he does so. He has no idea how the words even managed to fall from his lips, but somehow they did.

"I know, which is why we should have sex like nor—"

"Not that," Eliot says, frustrated. "This, all of this. Us. Doing this shit. We can't keep fucking each other." He hates every single word that leaves his mouth.

"What?" Parker asks, sitting up now. She's confused, she doesn't understand. "Why not? It's fun."

"Yeah, sure. Fuckin' fun. Right. Cause it's fun when you fuckin' stop me in the middle," Eliot grumbles, just pissed off about that too.

"Sorry, do you want to keep doing it that way? You can if you want. I'll ignore the weird feeling. We can just—"

"No."

That makes Parker stop. She just looks at him, but he won't look at her. He doesn't wanna see the look on her face because he knows it'll make him take back what he said. "…It's not fun anymore for you, is it?" she asks in a small voice.

"No," he lies, fucking straight out lies to her goddamn face. But this was the only way he was gonna be able to get through this. "Just get dressed and get out." He realizes how much of an asshole that makes him sound so he adds, "Please." Not like that made it any better.

Parker doesn't say anything when she leaves, and doesn't say anything to him for about a week after that. She never even looked at him when she could help it. It started to gnaw at Eliot, made him feel like such a fuckin' jerk for doing her like that. But what else could he do? He couldn't just continue to have sex with her when that's all it was for her… and it ended up being so much more for him.

He knows most people just take what they can get, but he'd rather have nothing if he can't have everything.

Not that he even knows that he wants everything with Parker. Sure, yeah he _wants_ it, but in the long run, would that even be smart? Not only would he have to deal with Nate, telling him that dating your coworkers is just a bad idea like the hypocrite that he is, but he'll have to deal with Hardison and how much it's just gonna _crush _him.

But he can't help the way he feels. However he feels. It's not like he needs Parker to_ breathe_ or anything queer like that, but he… he misses her being around. He's grown to like her little fucked up way of thinking and all her little comments that make no sense, and even her weird little detached blank stare and heavy blinking that she does when she's confused… or maybe just thinking too much. He can never be too sure.

And now she won't even _look _at him. It makes him feel… fucking really shitty. Honestly.

So he does something stupid. Of course.

There's a knock on his door, and when he opens it, Parker's on the other side with this weird look on her face and a dozen roses in her hand. Yeah, okay, he probably should have thought this through better. She's looking at him like she just doesn't understand what the hell is going on. Hell, he doesn't understand it either.

"What are these?" she asks, holding them out.

"They look like flowers," Eliot replies, avoiding.

"I know _that,_ but why are they mine?"

Because he's an idiot? Yeah, that's probably a good answer. But he doesn't say that. "Cause I was being a dick to you." The card _did _say that, so he has no idea why she has to come over here and freaking double check.

There's a long pause, then she smirks, as if something's funny. He looks at her, wanting to know why the hell she had that look on her face. She notices his confusion and elaborates, "Hardison must get a lot of flowers from you then."

And then walks right past him and into his house. Damnit. That was not how this was supposed to go down. And… "I don't give Hardison fuckin' _flowers._ I ain't a flamer."

Parker puts the flowers on his coffee table and turns to look at him. "So then why did you give me some?"

Deer in headlights.

He stands there for a minute, before turning and closing the door that she left wide open. "I don't know. You're a chick." Or whatever. Wow, that was a damn near ridiculous answer.

Parker doesn't acknowledge it though. "They're pretty," she says, like it's some kind of light fact that had no bearing on anything at all. She picks at them absentmindedly. "They smell like the playground."

Er… yeah, okay.

He wants to ask why the hell she's still _here,_ now sitting on his couch, but he just stays silent. She's still picking at the flowers, playing with them. She's got a weird look on her face; her lips are pressed together as she thinks about something. Then she asks again, though in a much softer voice as she doesn't look at him, "…Why did you give me the flowers, Eliot?"

"I told you, I was being a—"

She interrupts him though by standing up, and the funny look on her face switching to another that he can't read. "Okay," she says quickly, and picks them up. What the hell is going on? She walks past him, like she's leaving. What the…?

He puts his hand on her shoulder, turning her around. "Where are you going?" Not that he didn't think she should leave, but it was just so… sudden. What was the point of her being over her then?

But the funny look on her face is gone, and she smiles a little in this way that makes him feel like it isn't completely genuine, but she makes him forget by sticking the flowers in his face and waving at him. "I have to put them in water," she explains, like it should be obvious. The only thing that was obvious right now though was that a petal almost went halfway up his nose. He sputters and waves the flowers away.

And then the next second she was just… gone.

Well… that didn't go like… anything. He didn't even know how he _wanted _it to go, but it wasn't like that.

But then the next couple days were just like the past week. She didn't look at him, didn't talk to him. Practically avoided him. What the hell, didn't the flowers constitute as enough of an apology?! Then he remembers Parker isn't a normal girl. Flowers and candy… they aren't an apology to her. So he tries something else, just trying to make shit go back to fuckin' normal.

He wasn't surprised when he answered his door the next day and Parker was on the other side of it, her opened present in her hands. "What's this?"

Damn, why does she have to keep asking that?

"A box full of cash." Clearly. He even put a fuckin' bow on the damn thing.

It makes her smile though. "Thank you," she says, looking down at it in glee. But then she looks back up at him. "But why'd you give it to me?"

"Cause you keep fuckin' ignoring me, Parker. Trying to fix it. Thought that much would be obvious."

"Are you trying to woo me?"

His brain just died. "Woo…? What the…?" Woo was a retarded fucking— fuck, yes. He was. No. Of course he wasn't. He was just trying to apolog—he was. No. Yeah… "No."

Wow, that was difficult.

"I think you're lying," she tells him in a tone of voice that tells him _nothing _on how she even felt about the matter.

"Whatever." Yeah, he's the king of comebacks. Obviously.

"I'm hungry, buy me dinner," Parker says suddenly. That makes Eliot almost do a double take. He looks at her, an eyebrow raised.

"… Are you asking me to ask you out on a date? Is that what that was?"

"No, I'm telling you to," Parker corrects. Well, okay. That was really blunt. Eliot almost doesn't know what to say to that besides:

"_Why?"_ Because hell, she's been ignoring him for the last week, why would she suddenly…?

"Because I'm hungry and you give me presents," she explains, then grabs his hand and leads him to her car. "Come on."

Why is everything just so simple for her? Sometimes he envies the way she sees the world – so black and white. He went with her, he did. He bought her a nice dinner and they debated on which painting was the most expensive replica in the restaurant. Just normal crap that at the same time just wasn't very normal. And while it was nice, it was nice like hell to take Parker out on a real date… it did bother him; her answer to his question.

Was she just going out with him because he gave her stuff?

Then they were on his doorstep – because it was her car that she dragged him into and now she had to drop him off (god that makes him feel like a woman) – and she's just standing there… waiting. Looking at him.

"What?" he asks, not sure what the hell she's expecting. Did she want to be invited inside? Was all this just so she could manipulate him into bed again?

"I want my goodnight kiss. All girls get one at the end of dates, right?" She asks it like she isn't sure. Has she ever been on a date before?

Oh god, was he her first? Not sex, obviously. It was clear like hell that he wasn't _that_, but her first… date?

He did _not _almost make the mistake of thinking the word boyfriend. He didn't.

But he does lean down and kiss her softly, but briefly. It's just… weird. It's nice but it's so fucking weird. It feels halfway domestic and that's just… fuckin' _weird._ Something like this happening was so out of left field, and Eliot doesn't feel like he had time to properly prepare for it.

She chews on her bottom lip a little and shifts her weight between her feet. "Okay, now I go, right? There's that three date rule."

The _three date rule._ Jeez. He's pretty sure that shit became null and void since they fucked little jackrabbits for three whole months. But he can't have sex with her… not tonight. Not right now. Not when he still has no damn clue what's going on.

But he does catch on to one thing.

"Parker?" he asks cautiously. "Please don't tell me this was your first date."

She gives him a little smile before saying nothing, turning away from him. He calls out after her, wanting an answer to her question. But she just turns and says simply, "You told me not to tell you."

… And then she's in her car, driving off.

Eliot leans against the threshold of his doorway and sighs. Fuck. What was he doing? How the hell did this even happen? Part of him feels like this is wrong, that he shouldn't be Parker's first date. Like he's not good enough to be, or something. It's just weird. All of this is just weird. It's really fuckin' backwards, but hell, isn't everything with Parker backwards? Sex, dating, whatever. Its all backwards.

But he fell asleep that night with a smile on his face as he thought about her.

He get's woken up the next morning by his phone. He grumbles sleepily and his hand searches until he finds it. Pressing the 'talk' button and holding it up to his ear he answers, "Hello?"

"Hi."

It was Parker. He yawns, sitting up in bed. But she doesn't say anything. There's just a really long silence. "Parker… is everything okay?"

"Yeah. I just was supposed to call you."

"Did Nate ask you to—?" A job already? It's too early.

"Oh, no. I'm just supposed to call you cause we had a date last night." Then she pauses, as if she's realizing something. "Or no wait, you're supposed to call me, right? Hold on, let me hang up and you can call me back."

"What? No, Parker—" but the line was already dead. Damnit. He sighs and calls her back.

"Hello?" she answers, and he can hear the smile in her voice as she says, "Okay, now that's better."

He's pretty sure he has a headache. "Parker, not everything has to be standard by the book. You can call _me_, you know."

"Oh. Well I didn't know that. Now I do. I'll hang up and call you back then."

"Parker—" too late. The line was dead again. God damn, he knew it'd possibly be confusing dating Parker, but this was ridiculous.

So then why was he smiling a little?

The phone rings again, and when he answers it he tells her, "Okay, are you done hanging up on me?"

"Yes, I think we're doing it right now."

Great then. He sighs and lies back down in bed, looking at the ceiling, the phone to his ear. "Now what do we talk about?" she asks.

Christ.

"I don't know, you're the one who called me."

"Oh, do you dictate the conversation if you're the one calling me? Okay, since I don't know what to talk about, you can call me back."

_And then she freaking hangs up again._

Eliot sighs in frustration, but part of him is amused, despite it. He can't help but chuckle a little as he presses redial on his phone. When she answers he says, "You're really fuckin' weird, you know."

"I don't think so," she tells him. "I think you're weird cause you won't cut your hair."

HEY NOW.

"What? You don't like my hair?" How can anyone not like _his hair?!_

"No, I do. It's pretty. I just don't know why you refuse to cut it. It's gonna get split ends, then it won't be so pretty."

"I _do _trim it."

"Is this what we're going to talk about? Your hair?" she asks suddenly. It's too early for her rapidly switching conversations. "I thought we're supposed to talk about how you're gonna ask me out again. Or no wait, you're just supposed to do it. Not talk about it. I think."

Eliot doesn't answer, but only because he's trying not to laugh because he's afraid she'll take it the wrong way. But in her own little way, her naivety was kind of… cute.

But Parker takes his silence the wrong way. "…Or this is when you tell me there isn't going to be a second date." A beat, "I'm good in bed, you know."

Eliot snorts, "I know that."

"So then ask me out again."

Eliot presses his lips together before sighing. He stares at the ceiling for a minute before asking, "Why do you want me to?" He just needs to know.

"Because it makes me smile."

"Going on dates?"

"Being around you."

Oh. Shit, okay,_ that_ makes him smile. Even after everything, he still didn't expect that. Half of him was still convinced she was just trying to make it into his bed again. And he guesses she is… just that's not all she was trying to do.

He takes a breath, "Parker, would you like to go out with me tonight?"

He can hear in her voice that she has a smile that lights up her entire face, "Yes, I would like that."

Eliot brought her to Laser Tag that night. It wasn't normally his thing for dates, but he remembered when they passed by one once and she said it was one of her favorite games. Despite running around with a bunch of _kids,_ it was really fun. Parker enjoyed herself, which was obvious. And because Parker was happy it made him happy. It was ridiculous, really it was. She would smile and it wouldn't matter what was going on, hell the whole damn world could be crumbling down around them, but it would always make him smile too.

But of course, dating Parker wasn't just fun – it was always eventful.

"Let me go!" she exclaims as Eliot holds her back from attacking someone after the laser tag game had ended. Thankfully, the person who she was about to attack didn't realize it was him that she was after – and neither did his parents.

"Parker, he's seven years old!"

"He cheated! He's so short that it makes him practically unable to target! I would have won! He's like a tiny _ninja!_ A tiny cheating little ninja!"

Eliot tries not to laugh, he really does.

"Come on, darling'. You got second place, that isn't bad. I'll buy you some victory food."

Parker grumbles, but stop fighting against him. She leans back against his chest and her hair tickles his chin, "It's not victory if I didn't _win._ I always win."

"Well, to me you won." It was the best thing he could come up with. She cocks and eyebrow and turns to look at him.

"That's like what people say out of movies and stuff."

"Yeah, well. You beat me, so…"

It was easy, being with her like this. Here, like this, anyway. They still had yet to see the whole team since this started two days ago, and he was worried about it. Though apparently he shouldn't be, because the next day when Nate had them all over while Hardison and him looked for a new client, nothing changed. He should have known that, after all they had sex for months and neither of them felt the need to be obnoxiously all over each other. Not that they were all over each other in general – they weren't. They kissed sometimes, but that was it. Parker was still stuck on doing everything "right" with the three date rule.

Two down, one to go.

But the next night when they came back from their third date, nothing flowed smoothly. He should have expected that though. The three date rule is supposed to be an unspoken one, but they had already spoken of it. So when she invited him up to her apartment, the second she closed the door she was already peeling off her clothes.

"Sex time," she tells him.

It was amusing; the way she just states these things how she does. He cracks a smirk and yeah, he has sex with her. Or at least… he tries.

She stops him again.

"What _now?"_ he asks in an annoyed tone. He swears their sex used to not be this complicated. He was doing what she wanted – a rough fuck against the wall. He knows how much she likes that; being able to wrap her legs around him as he holds her up and pounds into her like tomorrow ain't coming.

"You need to have sex with me in that weird way you tried to do before."

"You didn't _like_ that," he practically growls. He's hard, still fuckin' inside her, and she wants to have a _conversation?_

"That was different, we weren't dating then," she tells him. "But you can't have sex with me like a slut when we're dating."

"I'm not— fuck, Parker. I don't think you're a slut."

"No, I know. But sex like this is slutty, and when I was being a slut before that was how it was supposed to go. Now you have to do the sex that makes me feel weird. But a good weird."

He sighs heavily and withdraws from her, making sure to hold on to her as she slides down the wall back on her feet. This was frustrating; why did everything have to be so complicated? Her by-the-book standards were insane. Can't they just do… fuckin' whatever? He runs his fingers through his hair in annoyance and stalks off in the other direction.

"Where are you going?"

"In the fuckin' bedroom. If you want me to make love to you then it's gonna be in the bed."

"Oh. Er…"

Eliot turns to look at her, and she's shifting uncomfortably and chewing on her thumbnail. "What?" He really doesn't like how she's looking at the moment.

"Nothing. Just… that's what that was?"

He blinks, looking back at her. Didn't she know that? Wasn't that the whole point of wanting to _do _it, because they were dating now? "Yeah," he says, but its softer, like for some reason her reaction to it was bothering him.

"Don't you have to be in love to do that?" she asks him, watching him like she doesn't know if she should be afraid of him if he _is_ in love with her.

Which he's not. He might have feelings for her, but he ain't' there yet.

He just sighs and leans against the doorway. "Parker, I'm trying here. I'm fuckin' following all your stupid little rules, trying to make this how you want it. But I ain't a mind reader. Just tell me what you want from me and I'll fuckin' give it to you, damn." It's frustrating, but mainly it frustrates him because he's _trying._ He's trying more than he ever fuckin' has with any other woman before and she just isn't making it easy.

Maybe he's doing it because he's the first guy she's ever dated – at least try to make it nice, or something. Maybe he's just doing it cause he really is pussy-whipped. Maybe he's doing it because he fuckin' cares. He doesn't know. But he's trying, and being met halfway would be nice.

"You didn't answer my question," she tells him, walking up to him slowly.

This conversation was making him uncomfortable for some reason. "Fuck, I don't know. No, not by any known standards do you have to be in love to do it. It's just, I dunno, a nicer way of fucking you, I guess."

"Oh," she says, and now she's standing in front of him, peering up at him. "You want to have sex with me nicely, then?"

"It's whatever you want." Because it is, he has no idea how the hell _that _happened, but he'll do whatever she wants.

"Hm." Parker seems to think about that for a moment, then she nods, as if she was just deciding that she'd very much like to take a walk, or something like that. "I guess we can try that. You know the weird feeling? It's kind of like butterflies. All down here," she motions to the pit of her stomach. "Do you get those too?"

_Butterflies._ God, that's so fucking girly. He is not saying he gets—

"Sort of. I guess."

Damnit.

It makes Parker smile though, and she grabs his hand and takes him into her bedroom. She lies back on the bed and as he crawls on top of her, she asks, "Okay, what do I do?"

Eliot chuckles a little, amused that she doesn't consider this regular sex, so she believes she has no idea what to do in this situation. He kisses her neck softly and whispers in her ear, "Just lie there."

"But that's no fun."

He smirks, his lips trailing across her throat softly. "Just trust me, okay?" he says softly. "I'm gonna make _you_ feel good."

"You already do that anyway."

He smiles, but comes up to put a finger on her lips. "Just let me… just fuckin' let me, okay?" She pauses for a minute then nods underneath his finger. He takes his hand away and kisses her softly, pressing his hard naked body against the softness of her own. She moans a little, very quietly into his mouth, as his hand slides up her hip, over her ribcage.

His lips fall to her neck again, and after each kiss Parker lets out a little quiet sigh of contentment. Her eyes are closed, her hands are tangled in his hair, and she's pressing her hips up against him. It takes awhile for him to get anything done, but he's enjoying himself. He likes the way Parker holds onto him, like she doesn't know what else to do, or what else she can do. He likes how she really has no idea what they're doing, but knowing exactly what it is all the same. His lips wrap around one of her nipples and she gasps softly, her fingers in his hair balling into a fist as she pulls a little.

"Eliot…" she gasps quietly. He thinks she's just saying his name just to say it, until she says, "Eliot…" again, and he realizes she's trying to get his attention.

"Hm?" he asks, looking up at her. She makes a face.

"I think my butterflies have ADHD."

He snorts as he laughs, and she pouts a little. She's being serious. "They're all… they're crazy, Eliot. They're spazzing around in my stomach."

He smirks a little, sliding his body lower. She looks at him, like she's not sure what he's doing. But his lips find the pit of her stomach, and he starts kissing it softly. She squirms.

"They're spazzing more now!"

He chuckles a little, but he doesn't stop. "Eliot, they're—" but she's cut off by Eliot's mouth going lower, until his tongue connects with her clit. "Oh god," she interrupts herself, the breath being taken from her. "Okay…" she gasps, "They like that…" She holds up her hips a little, pushing into his face.

He tries not to laugh again, but it still comes out, vibrating her clit and making her moan. Out of all the times they had sex, he had never gotten to do this. She usually is the one to get him off with her mouth, or he'll just fuck her quick and hard. It wasn't like he didn't _try_, but Parker's impatient like hell sometimes, and just wants to be nailed as hard as he can. So now that she's letting him, obviously enjoying it and accepting that their sex is going to be slow, he takes as long as he wants down there.

"Mmm… I think I like this…" she gasps out, panting a little. He doesn't ask if this is the first time she's ever really let anyone go down on her properly. He's pretty sure he doesn't want to know.

He makes sure not to get her to the edge too fast, but after awhile, he could tell she was getting there whether he was done or not. She was pressing her hips so hard into his face he could barely breathe, her hands were gripping the sheets beneath her and she was panting hard. "Eliot, fuck… oh god…" He sucks on her clit hard and she screams a little, then demands, "Fuck me! Please!"

He comes up, but uses his thumb to stimulate her gently, but with enough force to drive her crazy. "No," he tells her, with a smirk.

"Why?" she pants out, then gasps again and presses her hips into him more. "Fuck…"

"Because you're going to cum more than once, and one of them is going to be right now," he tells her simply. She doesn't answer, but he doesn't think she can. She's panting hard; her eyes closed tightly shut and her muscles poised as she holds onto the bed beneath her as she lefts up her hips. He's pretty sure she stopped breathing for a moment there, but then when she does again she lets it all out in one loud scream, collapsing back down on the bed as she rides out her wave.

He smiles a little and doesn't even give her a moment to think before his tongue in back on her. But he's softer, knowing he has to be _very _gentle if he doesn't want her to cum again in the next twenty seconds. She moans again, and while he was hoping she would last at least another five minutes… she ends up cumming again in under three. She's panting, it's all she really can do at this point, and he climbs up her body to capture her lips with his. She can barely kiss him through trying to catch his breath, and he checks to see if the condom he had on when he was attempting to do her against the wall is still intact. When he finds that it is, he slips inside of her quickly.

"Eliot!" she cries out against his lips, like she doesn't know what to make of what's happening anymore. He knows she's disoriented like hell, but she's grabbing onto him, her nails digging into his flesh as she can do nothing else but hold on. "Oh god…" but he's not done. He's gonna have her have at _least_ two more before he gets off. His hand slips between their body and he finds her swollen clit. She screams, panting against his mouth.

"Eliot… I-I can't…" she manages to get out.

"You can, and you will," he tells her gruffly, his fingers working against her clit with skilled precision as he slams into her. She gasps hard, almost some sort of strangled whine noise before suddenly her fingernails are most _definitely_ breaking the skin on his back and she screams again.

One down, one to go.

"Eliot… please…" she thinks she can't handle it, but yet she's slamming her hips into him, panting and holding on; her body is deceiving her words. She's sweating, her bangs are sticking to her forehead and she looks so fucking beautiful that he just has to tell her that.

"Fuck, you're beautiful, Parker…" he kisses her again, and she moans into his mouth. She bites on his lower lip hard as she's building towards the edge again, but this time he knows he's coming down with her.

"I don't think I… fuck…. Eliot, stop— don't stop… Jesus Christ…" Her hands are in his hair again, pulling him towards her so his face is buried in the crook of his neck. He can feel her muscles inside start to contract around him, and he cries out against her neck, though it's drowned out by her own screams.

"I… can't… breathe…" she manages to get out, once he's rolled off of her and laying next to her, staring at the ceiling, spent and exhausted. "And… I think I'm… _blind…"_

He laughs a little, out of breath himself, and looks over at her. "Your eyes are closed."

"Are they? I still… see things…" she tells him through her light panting. She's lying there looking _exactly _like she's been fucked three ways to Sunday and yeah, it makes him feel a bit proud. He smirks.

He rolls over and kisses her softly once, "Open your eyes," he says, amused.

"I… don't think I… can…" she mumbles incoherently, and he chuckles. He's about to say something, when he realizes her breathing has slowed. She was fast asleep. He smiles and kisses her forehead before taking off the condom, throwing it across the room into the trash bin (he really should have played basketball as a kid, his aim really was fantastic), and rolling over to fall asleep himself.

It was all so complicated; dating Parker. But at the same time there was such simplicity to the complication. It was easy and it was hard, it was wonderful and it gave him headaches, but it was all just so fuckin' amazing that nothing else really mattered. She isn't the woman he thought he would fall for; she wasn't the woman he ever saw himself in a relationship with but it just… it happened.

And really, he's pretty fuckin' sure he wouldn't change that for anything.

**THE END.**


End file.
